A Vintage Christmas (10 page)

‘Of
course
she is!’ David laughs and he takes the shoes out of the box and hands them to me.

I look at him in confusion. ‘What? I-I don’t understa—’ And then, realisation strikes. He’s giving them to me as a thank you gift. ‘No! David, I can’t accept these!’

He nods and sighs. ‘You’re right. I can’t give these to you...’

‘Phew,’ I laugh, ‘you nearly gave me a heart attack!’

‘He can’t... because
I
have to,’ a voice says. A voice that stops my heart and slows my pulse. A voice that catches my breath and disarms me.

‘Sam?’ I gasp, turning just in time to see him step out from behind Felix.

I don’t need to tell him I’d given up on him. It’s apparent in my voice, but he doesn’t look sad, instead he takes a step towards me and smiles. He looks really smart, adorably so in fact, in a suit and skinny tie. His hair has been cut and styled and he looks very nervous.

I look at him in confusion. ‘I wasn’t sure you’d come.’

He nods. ‘I came to tell you that I’m sorry, Evie. You were right that morning, you know, the day before I left for Brazil. I knew it as soon as you reminded me how important your career is, and how it’s your baby, just like Sophie is mine. You were right and I knew then that I wanted to be with you always. I don’t care how often you work, as long as I know we have forever to look forward to together.’ David hands him the shoes pats him on the shoulder and steps back.

‘When you went to Tetbury that day, I picked up Sophie from school and the two of us went looking for an engagement ring for you,’ I gasp as tears begin to fill my eyes. ‘But we couldn’t find one special enough.’ He pauses. ‘I thought about designing something, but I knew that would take too long and I didn’t want to wait any longer. So I delayed my flight by a day, got on the train to Tetbury the day after you got back and went to see David. I told him the whole story and asked him if he would make a pair of shoes especially for you. A pair that I could propose to you with. And that you could wear to our wedding...’

There is a collective gasp from all the women in the room. Even me. Especially me!

‘I went back the other day to collect them. But I was worried you may have got cold feet. After all, I haven’t been the best boyfriend recently...’

‘Sam—’ I begin.

He suddenly drops down to his knees.

‘Let me just do this Evie. I’m too nervous to stop.’ He swallows and stares at the box in his hands. ‘As soon as you told me that things had to change, I knew you were right. I knew without any doubt that I wanted things to be different because I didn’t want to be your boyfriend anymore, I wanted to be
married
to you.’ He looks up at me nervously. ‘Evie, I want to be as committed to you as you are to your work and as I am to Sophie. I want us to be a family. A patchwork family that already has two babies: mine and yours. These baby years are going to be tough but I know we’ll get through it together. After all, we’ve both had plenty of practice – and we’ve got lots of friends to help us.’

He smiles at all the people around us and looks back at me beseechingly. ‘Why am I always making a complete arse of myself in this shop?’ he asks and I laugh, remembering how he kissed me for the very first time in Hardy’s window. Then he takes the shoes out of the box and lifts them up to my eye level. I can see now that the writing on the labels, the wings on each inner heel, is different to all David’s other designs.
Angelo’s
is stitched in what looks like spun gold as are the words “To Evie, forever yours, Sam.” Today’s date has also been sewn underneath.

I’m aware the shop has come to a standstill, the customers and the staff are all frozen like the mannequins in the display: listening, watching, waiting.

I feel like I am here, but I am not. It is a dream, a fairytale, but it is also real. It is happening. This is Hardy’s, but it is also a beautiful ball. I am Evie, but I am also, suddenly Cinderella.

‘Evie, I think you know by now what I’m going to ask. I love you and I want to be with you always...’ Sam sounds choked. ‘Will you marry me?’

‘Yes!’ I laugh as I kick off my shoes, put my hands on his shoulders and slip the Angel wing shoes on. They are a perfect fit. And then I repeat myself, just for good measure, ‘Yes, yes, yes!’

Sam gets to his feet, lifts me off mine and we kiss. The staff and customers all cheer and the world whirls beneath my feet. Suddenly people are grappling for
Angelo’s
shoes, squealing and holding them up and shouting ‘Size 39 in jade, please!’ and the staff are running around. Amidst it all, are Sam and I, still kissing and holding each other, swaying softly like we’re part of the dancing mannequin display. As our lips part he whispers, ‘I love you Evie, I love everything about you...’

‘Including my job?’ I ask quietly, gripping his tie and then running my fingers down it.

‘
Especially
your job. After all, if it weren’t for Hardy’s we’d never have met, and if we hadn’t gone to Tetbury and met David, you wouldn’t have saved his business and I wouldn’t have been given the best advice of my life from old Mr Angelo...’

‘What was it?’ I ask.

‘That love is like finding a pair of shoes designed to fit you perfectly: they make you feel like you’re walking on air.’

‘Like these,’ I say, looking down at my winged feet.

Sam smiles and takes my hand. ‘And like us.’

I look up at him. ‘Sam, I’m so sorry I took you for granted. I was so scared that I’d ruined everything and you weren’t coming back. Hardy’s may be my home, but you and Sophie are my world’

He kisses me again. ‘I know. I’m never going to leave you. I promise.’

I turn around, wanting to thank David, not just for the shoes but for what he’s done for Sam and me, but he’s nowhere to be seen. I frown; I’m torn, but only momentarily. I want to find him, but this moment is about Sam and I, David Angelo – and his dad – won’t mind. In fact, I know exactly what they’d say:
“Work can wait, Evie. True love can’t.”

‘Shall we go and find out how the takings are going?’ Sam says, eyeing up the cash desk and the flurry of staff and customers crowding the department.

I shake my head and lead him to the real staircase. As we begin to descend, holding onto the rail that is entwined with festive greenery, I feel like I am making an entrance into a new chapter of my own fairy-tale: the one that ends with a happy ever after.

‘I think the store can manage without me for an hour or so,’ I reply with a smile. ‘Besides, there’s someone who needs to be told our good news.’ I pause. ‘It doesn’t seem fair that one of our babies and not the other has heard it already.’ I glance up at the domed ceiling of Hardy’s and say a silent thank you for everything it has done for me, before smiling at my fiancé. ‘I think a celebration is in order.’

‘Eggnog and Christmas cake in Lily’s tearoom with Sophie?’ Sam suggests.

‘Perfect!’ I laugh as he turns and kisses me lightly on the lips. ‘This is going to be the best Christmas ever,’ I add joyously as I gaze at my husband-to-be.

‘A vintage Christmas!’ Sam replies playfully.

And it is.

Discover where the magic began. . .

Available in paperback and eBook

Thursday 1 December

24 Shopping Days Until Christmas

C
HAPTER
1

I
gaze out of my bedroom window into the dark winter morning as the snowflakes fall softly outside. Is this it? I wonder. It’s not a sudden change in the wind, like the one that carried Mary Poppins to the Banks family, or the tornado that carried Dorothy to Oz, but maybe, just maybe, this downfall is the universe’s way of telling me that my life is about to change. A flurry of snow to signal the flurry of action I’ve been waiting for so long.

I drop the curtains so that they fall back in place and dash over to my dressing table where my Advent calendar is propped up against the mirror. I smile as I open door number one and pop the chocolate in my mouth. The picture is of a snow globe. Another sign that things are about to be shaken up?

Half an hour later I slam the front door behind me, heave my bike down the front steps and hop on, feeling a thrill of anticipation. Today big things are going to happen, I just know it.

Today, like every work day, I’m wearing plain black trousers, a white shirt (with a thermal vest underneath) and flat brogues. I’m also wrapped in a cardigan, my sensible knee-length duffel coat, bobble hat, and a multicoloured striped scarf, which I’ve wound tightly around my neck and mouth. Not a great look but it’s not like anyone is going to notice at this time of the morning. Or indeed at any time. It’s been two years since anyone really looked at me. That was when Jamie broke up with me.

Obviously I’ve changed
massively
since then and I’m completely over him. Well, maybe not completely. But, you know, these things take time. Two years isn’t that long to get over a five-year relationship, is it? I don’t care what my sister says, it’s perfectly understandable that I’m not quite there yet. Besides, since we broke up I’ve been focusing on other aspects of my life. I mean, I don’t live with my parents any more, for a start. OK, so I do live with my big sister, Delilah, and her husband, Will, in the converted attic in their house overlooking a gorgeous square in Primrose Hill, but it’s different because I’m independent. Like a 28-year-old woman should be. Well, independent apart from the fact that in exchange for my lodging I have to look after my 3-year-old niece, Lola, and 2-year-old nephew, Raffy, before and after work. It’s not ideal, but I can’t complain.

I inhale deeply and gaze around me wondrously. How could I fail to feel positive on a day like this? The roofs of the grand Regency houses on Chalcot Square are covered in white, as if a big scoop of vanilla ice cream has melted all over the peppermint, orange, raspberry and lemon sorbet-coloured houses. And the pretty garden that they surround looks like a Christmas cake that’s just been covered with a thick layer of royal icing. I push off, wobbling a little as I weave round it and cycle on to Regent’s Park Road.

I cross the road and head over to Primrose Hill, pedalling hard to break through the thick layer of snow that crunches under my wheels. Then I stop for a moment and just cruise downhill, feeling the wind whip against my cheeks, throwing my head back and closing my eyes so that I feel like I’m suspended in space and time. I open my eyes, grip the handlebars tightly and pedal furiously again. Because today, for once, I’m determined to go somewhere.

It feels as if I have been magically transported back in time as I cycle into Portland Place. No vehicles are on the streets and I can’t help but imagine them when they were cobbled and filled with horses and carriages. I’m just picturing myself in full Victorian costume, when I swing off down New Cavendish Street and onto Great Titchfield Street, past the unlit pubs and restaurants, and then I swerve down a smaller road, skidding to a halt as I pull up in front of Hardy’s department store: a place that has been my daytime home for the past two years and where, today, all my career dreams will finally come true.